


Tony Pulls a Train

by Alex51324



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Consensual Roleplay of Dubcon Scenario, Consent is Sexy, F/M, Fluffiest Gangbang Ever, Gangbang, M/M, Multi, Multiple kinks, Roleplay, Tony Loves His Team, Tony's Team Loves Him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-20 08:19:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex51324/pseuds/Alex51324
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and the team (+ Phil) roleplay a scenario where it's Tony's first day as the Avengers' new live-in sex slave, and everybody wants a turn with their new toy.  Consensually negotiated off-screen with occasional onscreen affirmations of consent; in-role, slave!Tony is eager but at times a little nervous/apprehensive.  </p>
<p>Includes: slash, (non-graphic) het, oral sex, anal sex, (non-graphic) vaginal sex, light bondage, bureaucracy!kink, light humiliation, sex in front of an audience, teasing, size kink, cuddling, light discipline, orgasm control, rough sex, sensation play, blindfolds, sex with a person who is nearly asleep, aftercare, hand-feeding, and group cuddling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tony Pulls a Train

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of a departure from the other material I've posted here on the AO3, but those who know me from LJ will notice a return to some familiar themes. I think this may be my first gangbang story, though. 
> 
> For those who are concerned or intrigued about the foray into het, there really isn't that much of it. It didn't feel right to exclude Natasha from the big team bonding orgy, but I'm not really into het, so I wasn't able to write it very explictly. Her part is more of a summary of what they did; if you're into that, you'll have to use your imagination to flesh out the details. (If anyone who _is_ into het happens to feel moved to flesh out the details in writing and share them, that's more than cool. I feel kind of bad about half-assing her part, but it was the best I could do.)

“Up,” Coulson said, coming into the cell.

All right, it was actually the area behind a disused reception desk from when they’d thought this floor was going to be offices, but it was way hotter if Tony pretended it was a cell. Obediently, he rose up on his knees. He was naked, with his hands cuffed behind his back. A short chain connected the cuffs to another set on his ankles. He couldn’t stand until Coulson unfastened it, which was kind of the point.

Coulson circled around him, patting Tony’s head in a cursory sort of way as he did so. “Good,” he said—meaning, Tony hadn’t moved since Phil left him here, about half an hour ago. That was also kind of the point. Tony didn’t particularly _like_ being left alone, turned on and not able to move, but it helped him get into character. 

“They’re ready for you,” Coulson went on, running a hand down Tony’s back and unclipping the connecting chain. He undid the ankle cuffs and said briskly, “On your feet.” 

He was glad they’d picked Phil for this part. He had that impersonal, bureaucratic tone down cold, and it really sold the conceit that this was something being done to him. Tony could almost really believe that “they” were strangers, his new masters and mistress, not his friends and teammates, who he’d all played with before, separately and in various combinations. 

He really _didn’t_ know exactly what was going to happen once he got in there. They’d talked extensively and in different ways about what his limits were, what he liked, what he didn’t like but was willing to put up with for the sake of verisimilitude, but they’d discussed far too many possible scenarios for him to predict exactly how this would go down. And the ones who knew him best—Steve, Bruce, Phil—had consent to spring some surprises on him. 

This was going to be _fun_. Tony shivered a little in anticipation as he stood up.

“Come along.” Coulson kept one hand on Tony’s arm as he walked him to the common room. His other hand held a clipboard—another nice touch. 

It turned out to be an even better detail than Tony had expected. When they got to the common room, where the rest of the team was sitting around, fully clothed and trying not to look desperately turned on, Coulson said, “Delivery for the Avengers. I’ll need someone to sign.” 

Steve got up to take the clipboard, and Tony only got a glance of it as it passed, but it looked like Coulson had mocked up an honest-to-god _form_. It definitely wasn’t a takeout menu or a piece of scrap paper on there. 

It was that kind of attention to detail that made Coulson so perfect for the role. 

Cap turned out to be pretty good at his role, too. After glancing over the form, he said, “I’ll have to inspect him first.”

“Of course,” Coulson said. 

Cap made a bit of a show of checking him over—looking in Tony’s mouth, running his hands down his arms and over his ass, cupping his balls, flicking his nipples and cockhead with his thumb. Then he held out his hand to Coulson, and traded him the clipboard back for a latex glove and a small tube of lube. 

_That_ would be one of the surprises. Tony definitely approved—the longer the preliminaries went on, the more his anticipatory nervousness would build up, and the easier it was to immerse himself in the role of the team’s brand-new sex toy. 

Snapping the glove on, Steve applied a bit of lube to his index finger and slipped it into Tony’s hole, brisk and almost clinical. He withdrew it all too soon, saying, “Everything seems to be in order.” He pulled off the glove and tossed it into the trash, then signed Phil’s form. 

Taking the clipboard back, Coulson released his hold on Tony’s arm. “Enjoy him.”

“We will,” Cap said with an aw-shucks grin. 

Coulson slipped out—Tony guessed he’d be back; he was supposed to be in on the fun part of this, too, but Tony supposed if he really was the delivery guy, he’d be leaving. 

Turning to him, Cap said, “These are Dr. Banner, Hawkeye, the Black Widow, and Thor, and I’m Captain Rogers.” Tony turned a little toward each one as they were introduced, making sure everyone got a good view of his naked body, on display for their pleasure. “ You’ll call us sir, sir, ma’am, sir, and sir. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Tony said obediently. He hadn’t asked for this because he wanted pain—he wanted to be a _good_ sex slave. 

“You’ll have a chance to get to know each of us before you’re finished for the night. I’m going first. And you can stop worrying about _that_ for a while,” he added, flicking Tony’s hard cock with his thumb and forefinger, “because I don’t give one good goddamn about it.” 

Steve went back to his armchair—the same one he sat in for movie nights, and that shouldn’t be anywhere near as hot as it was—and had Tony kneel at his feet. “Come forward,” he said, spreading his knees so that Tony could get in between them. “Closer—that’s it.” Tony’s face was inches from the bulge in the front of Cap’s jeans; he could smell the musky heat of him and licked his lips in anticipation. 

“You want my cock, boy?” Steve asked, not ungently.

“Yes, sir,” Tony said. “I want it like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Oh, I think I’d believe it,” Steve said, amused. “The Agency said you were a cock-hungry little slut. That’s good; that’s just what we need. You’ll be kept pretty busy, between the six of us. I hope you can keep up.”

There were only five in the room now, but of course, Phil was coming back later. “I’ll do my best, sir,” Tony promised, with a little wriggle of eagerness.

“I know you will. You’ll get my cock, but you have to earn it. You can start by licking here.” Steve ran his fingers over his bulge. 

Tony licked it diligently, the cloth rough on his tongue. Once Tony got his head down, Cap rested his hand on the back of it, not pressing hard enough to grind Tony’s face into his groin, just a nice, constant, comforting pressure. He could feel Cap growing even harder as he worked, but he didn’t let Tony move on to the next step until the crotch of his jeans was thoroughly dampened. “All right,” Cap finally said. “You can get me out.”

Tony had a certain amount of experience unfastening clothing with his mouth, but Cap’s jeans were stiff new button-flies. He got the first button unfastened all right, but the second one stuck. Even once it was slick with his spit, he couldn’t get it undone. 

“You ever going to let anyone else have a turn, Cap?” Clint asked from his place on the sofa. 

“He’s having a little trouble,” Steve explained. “Here,” he said kindly, ruffling Tony’s hair. Tony tensed—if he’d missed his shot at Steve’s cock, he’d really be kicking himself later—but Cap said, “It’s all right, I know you’re trying. I’ll help you.”

He undid the stubborn button, and Tony managed the next one quickly. Since Cap had chosen to go commando for the occasion, his cock sprang right out, practically leaping into Tony’s mouth, but he waited for permission. 

“There, now. Kiss the tip of it.” Tony did as he was told, savoring the drop of pre-come he found there. “All right, now. Take it in, just the head for now.”

Tony took Steve’s cockhead into his mouth, running his tongue around the crown and getting a few more drops of deliciously salty precome for his trouble. He whined a little with eagerness to take it all. 

“God, his _mouth_ ,” Clint said. “Who has the next turn? Cause I swear, I will give you anything to switch places.”

“I believe it is I,” Thor answered. “And I do not wish to trade.”

Oh, God, _Thor_. They were giving him the biggest cocks on the team right off the bat. Tony loved his team. 

Then Steve was sliding his cock further into Tony’s mouth, and Tony had to concentrate on relaxing his throat muscles to take it. “That’s it. Can you manage it all? I bet you can.” Tony tried to nod, which was not the easiest thing in the world to do with his mouth full of cock. 

Steve figured out what he meant, though (Seriously. _Loved. His. Team._ ) and went for it. His cock was deliciously heavy on Tony’s tongue, and he sat back, letting Tony bob up and down on it. (Steve was always so polite at the beginning of a blowjob. It was a like a challenge— _just see if you can make me lose control_ —and Tony loved a challenge.) 

The sure-fire way to get him past the polite stage was to press on his perineum at the high point of each thrust, but with his hands bound behind him, Tony couldn’t use that trick. Instead, he had to use all of his other ones—swirling his tongue, clenching his throat muscles, occasionally drawing back and letting the cock slip out of his mouth so he could lick or blow on it. Slowly but surely, Steve came undone. His hand went heavy on Tony’s head, holding him in place as Steve thrust himself home. 

Steve’s hips stuttered as he came—they always did—and Tony eagerly swallowed the load of sweet, salty come. Sitting back a little on his heels, he panted to catch his breath, squirming a little to try—futilely—to get some friction on his own hard cock. 

Once he, too, had caught his breath, Steve patted Tony’s head and said, “Good boy.” Glancing at the others, he added, “I, for one, vote we keep him.”

Tony took the opportunity to look at the others. Natasha was openly staring, her mouth slightly open and her cheeks flushed, her nipples hard under the thin tank top she was wearing. She didn’t like putting on a show herself, but she enjoyed watching. Clint, next to her, was sitting back and trying to look bored, but the way his fingers drummed absently on his own bulge was a dead giveaway. Bruce, rather disappointingly, was looking fixedly down at his tablet—sometimes he needed a distraction, or maybe the other guy did; Tony wasn’t sure. Feeling Tony’s gaze on him, he glanced up and smiled, but then turned his attention back to the tablet. 

Thor—he was next, right? Tony was nearly sure they’d said he was next—was leaning forward in his seat, his elbows propped on his spread knees, watching Tony with intent eyes. 

“You’re up, Thor,” Cap said, giving Tony a final pat. 

Thor shifted his weight a little. “Unbind his hands, please. I would have our new plaything crawl to me.” _Awesome_. When they were planning this, Tony had been a little surprised to learn that Thor was thoroughly familiar with the concept of sexual roleplaying; their previous encounters had been pretty vanilla. 

“Turn around,” Steve said, and Tony obeyed. Steve unclipped the short chain that connected the cuffs, but left them on. Did that mean somebody would be using them later? Tony hoped so. 

Once his hands were free, he couldn’t quite stop them from straying to his cock.

“Ah!” Steve said sharply, catching his wrist in a firm grip. “I didn’t hear anyone say you could do that, did you? Thor?”

“I did not,” Thor agreed. “I am glad you are eager, little one, but if you cannot keep your hands off your manhood, we will have to bind them again.” He crooked his fingers. “Come here.”

That “little one” gave Tony an idea of how to play this. He started over briskly enough, but shrank back a little when he got close to Thor, as if he was just realizing how big and intimidating he was. Huge, and dressed in leather pants and a vest that was almost, but not quite, armor, Thor could have been scary as hell to somebody who didn’t know him. 

It was a good call. Thor’s pupils—already blown—got even wider, and his voice was husky with lust as he said, “Do not fear, little one; I will be gentle.” 

Thor was true to his word. He got Tony up in his lap—facing him, straddling his broad thighs—and kissed him thoroughly, running his big, warm hands over Tony’s naked body as he did so. The contrast between Tony’s bare skin and the rough textures of Thor’s clothing was exhilarating, and Tony’s hand crept toward his cock again. 

Without breaking off from nuzzling Tony’s neck, Thor caught his hand in his and placed it on his shoulder. “Hold on, if that helps.”

It did help. Tony put his other hand on Thor’s other shoulder, stroking the hollows of his collarbones with his thumbs, as Thor continued his exploration of Tony’s body. Moving his hands down Tony’s chest, Thor pinched and stroked his nipples, but carefully avoided the arc reactor—Tony could only handle having it touched when he was very relaxed, and they’d decided it might be a bit much for this particular scene. 

The nipple stimulation left Tony even more achingly aroused, and he wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when Thor’s hands moved on, sliding over Tony’s back and down to cup his buttocks. 

“Relieved” won out when Thor pulled Tony close and let him rut against his hip for a few, glorious moments. It was far from being enough to let him come, but it was the first stimulation his cock had gotten since they started. He whimpered helplessly against Thor’s neck. 

Thor’s hands disappeared from his buttocks for a moment, and returned cool and slick. A broad-tipped finger teased his entrance, circling around and around before sliding in. Tony gasped and bucked harder against Thor’s hip; Thor gave him the whole length of it, unlike that tease Steve, and brushed Tony’s prostate. 

With his free hand, Thor eased Tony back, saying, “That is enough of that, little one—the Lady Natasha will be disappointed if you spend yourself before she has had her turn.”

Tony nodded. He couldn’t stop the movement of his hips, but he was thrusting against empty air now. 

After giving him a moment to catch his breath, Thor twitched his finger, and asked, “Are you ready for another?”

“God, yes,” Tony said. “I mean, yes, sir. Please.”

“Very well.” A second finger joined the first. Thor pumped them in and out just a little, withdrawing only a fraction of an inch each time. “You may free my cock now, little one,” Thor added, once Tony had adjusted to the additional girth.

Tony took his time fumbling with the laces on Thor’s pants—he’d had a hell of a time figuring out Asgardian flies, and this was supposed to be his first time with his new masters and mistress. When Thor’s cock was finally free, Tony gave a little whimper of mock fear at the size of it; the thing had the length and girth of a woman’s forearm, though he knew from experience that not having a hand at the end of it made it go in easier. Tony stroked it with hesitant fingers, managing to tremble a little, and looked up at Thor as if for reassurance. 

“It will be all right,” Thor comforted him, rubbing a circle with the thumb of the hand that was on Tony’s hip. “I do not doubt your capacity. But I think you should have another finger first, yes?”

“Please, sir,” Tony agreed. Thor obliged. Three of his fingers were enough to equal a decent-sized cock, and Tony felt stretched, filled, even as he knew that it was nothing compared to what was coming.

After working his fingers in and out of Tony for a few moments, Thor started adding lube, and invited Tony to put some on his cock. Tony went dry-mouthed with anticipation, and used most of the bottle. Getting fucked by Thor was no time to be a hero. 

Slipping his fingers out of Tony’s slick and thoroughly loosened ass, Thor settled his hands lightly on Tony’s hips and said, “Seat yourself on it. Take your time; I will be still.”

Tony would have liked to take it all at once, and show Thor what he was made of—but again, no time to be a hero, and if he hurt himself, this whole thing would come to an abrupt and unsatisfying end. He impaled himself slowly on Thor’s cock, moaning freely as he did and clutching at Thor’s shoulders as his hole stretched more and more. 

“ _Jesus_ ,” he heard Bruce say. 

Thor kept talking to him, nonsense like, “That’s it, little one,” and “You’re doing well,” and stroking Tony’s hipbones with his thumbs. By the time Tony had taken him all in, he really felt like he’d accomplished something. 

He thought he’d take a look around, see how the others were enjoying the show, but when he met Steve’s eyes, it was too much. Instead, he buried his face against Thor’s neck and closed his eyes. 

“Ready?” Thor asked. Tony nodded frantically, his head still pressed to Thor’s neck, and Thor began rocking Tony’s hips against him. His hands were gentle, but he controlled the speed and rhythm—if Tony tried to speed up more than Thor wanted him to, the grip on his hips went firm as iron. Tony still tried it a few times, more for that delicious feeling of being _controlled_ than because he thought he’d actually succeed. 

Thor kept him going slowly for a long time—at least, it seemed like a long time; Tony wasn’t tracking very well anymore. Finally, he sped up, pulling Tony down on him _deeper_ and _harder_. Feeling hollowed out and filled in the most delicious way, Tony sobbed and begged for more. Thor came like a clap of thunder, the kind so intense you felt it in your teeth. 

After rocking Tony on his softening cock for a few moments, Thor let himself slip out, and gathered Tony to his chest, stroking Tony’s hair and back, and talking to him softly as Tony shuddered and whimpered. “There, now, little one. Dry your tears.”

Once he’d settled a little, Tony asked plaintively, wanting more comfort, “Did I do all right, sir?”

“Yes, you did splendidly, little one. Just rest a moment, until you’re ready for your next task.”

#

Slumped against Thor’s chest, one of Thor’s big hands patting his hair, Tony would have been thoroughly content, except that he was still achingly hard, and he knew there was a lot more fun to come. Steve said, “Can we get a color, Tony?”

He sat up, without _much_ reluctance, and flashed a thumbs-up as he said, “Green for go, Cap.”

“Good,” Natasha said, unfolding herself from the couch. “Hands and knees, march. That way.” She pointed toward the hall that led to the common area guest rooms.

Tony crawled, getting a sharp slap on the ass when Natasha decided he wasn’t going fast enough. She was the first one to be really stern with him, and it made a thrilling contrast to Thor’s gentleness. 

Once in the bedroom, she ordered Tony to undress her. He got another slap as, in the process of removing her top, he tried to sneak a feel of her breast. “Just do what you’re told,” she ordered him. “This isn’t about what you want.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tony said contritely, but removing her trousers went much the same way, except it was her ass he tried to cop a feel of, and instead of a slap he got a stinging twist to his right nipple. 

As further punishment for his impertinence, she commanded him to take off her panties using only his mouth. He decided to try a little unauthorized licking, to see if that got him another treat. 

Instead, Natasha forced him to his knees, with his face on the carpet and his ass in the air, and disappeared into the attached bathroom for what seemed like a period of several years. When she finally returned, Tony decided it was in his best interests to cooperate, and went down on her, to her exacting specifications, keeping his hands where she’d placed them on her thighs the entire time. 

After her first climax, she flipped him onto his back, secured him spread-eagled to the bedposts, and fitted him with a cockring. It was the almost-painfully-tight one she and Pepper used when they really didn’t want him to come. He couldn’t help whimpering a little as it went on; he’d been hoping that Thor’s words meant he would get to come this round.

It was not to be. Climbing on top of him, she rode him mercilessly to two more orgasms—hers, not his. When she finally rolled off, he was as hard as he’d been when they started. Maybe harder. She got off the bed and collected her clothes, without giving him another look.

“Please,” Tony begged, hoping he would at least get another punishment— _something_. “Ma’am. Please.”

“Nobody told you to talk,” she answered, without looking at him or interrupting the process of briskly putting her clothes back on. “Hawkeye’s next. I suggest you cooperate.”

She left. Tony was alone for a few moments, growing slightly chilled as the sweat dried on his skin. He had little idea of what to expect from Clint—their previous encounters had been quick, dirty post-mission fucks. Tony had been a little surprised when Clint agreed to join in this game; he always said he was a man of simple tastes, sexually speaking.

As it turned out, he didn’t do anything particularly elaborate now, either. After asking Tony for a color and getting a game, “green,” he unclipped Tony’s wrist and ankle cuffs from the bed, threw him down on his knees, twisted a hand in his hair, and wordlessly fucked Tony’s face. It didn’t take long—and with his tongue and jaw still sore from getting Natasha off, Tony didn’t mind much. Clint came down his throat with a grunt.

Sitting back on the edge of the bed, Clint let Tony rest his head against his knee for a few moments, but soon pushed him away with something that was halfway between a swat and a pat, and tucked himself briskly back into his jeans. 

Tony’s back was to the bedroom door, but he heard it open, and Bruce’s voice said, “How was he?” 

“Fine,” Clint said laconically, nudging Tony with his booted foot as he stood up. 

“I hope you and the Widow weren’t too rough with him.” Even without looking, Tony could hear the frown in Bruce’s voice.

“Naw, he’s fine.”

Tony was—although if somebody didn’t let him come soon , he might actually die. 

Clint left, and Bruce came further into the room. Now that he was in Tony’s line of sight, Tony saw that he’d changed out of his clothes and into a simple robe. He flipped off the overhead lights, leaving just a small lamp by the bed. “Let’s get you cleaned up a little, before we start,” he said. He was moving toward the bathroom, and Tony shifted forward to crawl after him, but Bruce added, “No, just stay there.” 

Bruce returned from the bathroom with a washcloth and a bowl of water, which he used first to wash Natasha’s juices from his face, then to wipe the sweat from his limbs and body, and finally to clean up Thor’s come where it had leaked from Tony’s hole. Tony’s cock, he left completely alone. Saying, “We don’t need these, do we?” he took off the wrist and ankle cuffs. 

“All right,” Bruce said. “Up on the bed, on all fours, eyes closed. I’ll be right back.”

Tony did as he was told, positioning himself facing the head board. Behind him, he heard Bruce emptying the water back into the sink and rinsing out the washcloth. A drawer opened and closed, and then Bruce’s Ocean Sounds white noise machine turned on, providing just enough cover that Tony couldn’t track his movements by sound. 

He was a little surprised, then, when the bed dipped as Bruce joined him on it. He fastened a blindfold over Tony’s eyes, saying, “This’ll make it easier for you to keep them closed. Now. I want you to stay perfectly still, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Tony said. He knew enough about what Bruce liked to know what he was in for. Natasha and Clint had both ridden him pretty hard; Bruce’s thing was practically meditative, and would make a nice change. 

“Good. No talking,” Bruce added. “You can make sounds if you need to, but no words. Got it?”

Tony nodded. 

The warmth of Bruce body moved away a little, and Tony suspected he was looking over the toys he’d picked out, deciding what to start with. He settled on something soft—a piece of velvet, maybe—and brushed it over Tony’s shoulders, back, and ass with long, firm strokes. 

It was hard for Tony to stay still at first. After the extensive teasing the others had put him through, he wanted more intensity, on more sensitive parts of his body. But each time he twitched, or leaned into the touch, or angled his hips in hopes of getting some contact on his balls, Bruce just said, “No,” softly but firmly, and stopped touching him for a moment or two, resuming only when Tony was still again. 

Once Tony settled into it, Bruce’s thing was downright hypnotic. He dropped his head to the pillows and nearly forgot about his hard, aching cock as Bruce went over him with different implements, sensitizing every inch of his skin. There were long, deep strokes with soft cloth; light, rhythmic tapping with something springy; small circles with something that had dozens of rubber fingers; short strokes with a soft brush. Once Tony was fully relaxed, Bruce used the brush on his cock and balls a little—prepared as he was, he experienced as just another kind of stroking, like everything else Bruce had done, and not something that made him desperate to thrust and come. 

“That’s my boy,” Bruce said. “It’s nice to relax a little, after the day you’ve had, huh?”

Tony whimpered in wordless agreement. 

Next, Bruce poured a puddle of warmed oil onto the small of Tony’s back, and smoothed it over him with his hands, kneading gently into the muscles of his shoulders, back, ass, and thighs. Tony’s elbows gave out, and his upper body flopped down onto the pillows. Fortunately, Bruce decided not to take it as disobedience—Tony really didn’t know how he could have stayed upright any longer. 

“That’s all right,” Bruce said soothingly. “I want you as relaxed as I can get you.” He ran his hands over Tony’s buttocks, sliding his thumbs along the crack to spread some oil there. “Once you’re really down, I’m just going to slip inside; I’m sure you’ll like that.” He stroked Tony’s cock with an oil-slick hand, then moved to unfasten the cockring. “I’m not going to do anything with this,” Bruce warned him, “but if you can come just from having me inside, that’s fine. Otherwise, you’ll have to wait just a little bit longer.”

Tony made a soft sound of agreement, or understanding, or…something. He was pretty much floating now, his world narrowed to the warm, comforting dark and Bruce’s hands on his skin. 

One of Bruce’s hands came up to his ribcage, steadying him, and Bruce rubbed his cock between his ass-cheeks, adding a little more oil as he did so. Bruce’s cock slid over his hole, over and over, and when it did finally slide home, it was with a sense of inevitability, like Zen archery. 

Bruce’s thrusts were slow, and deep, and firm. Not hard, but somehow quietly and gently relentless, like water flowing over a rock—the kind of force that shaped coastlines and made the Grand Canyon. Tony’s knees gave out; Bruce just eased him onto his side and kept going. 

When Tony’s orgasm came, it came with that same sense of inevitability, _melting_ out of him more than anything else. Bruce said something—it might have been, “That’s all right,” or it might have been almost anything, really—and went on went on thrusting until he reached his own climax, coming like a river inside Tony. 

Bruce settled on his side behind Tony, fingers dabbling in the pool of come that Tony had spattered on his own belly. After a while, he brought his fingers up to Tony’s mouth, allowing him to lick them clean, and repeated the action until Tony was more-or-less cleaned up. 

“Not done, am I?” Tony asked around Bruce’s fingers. He still had…someone…didn’t he? 

Bruce chuckled, more a vibration against Tony’s back than a sound. “Not by a long shot. This is a break.” After a moment’s hesitation, he added, “Unless you want to be done?”

“I’m good,” Tony said vaguely. Having the time of his life, really. This was the best birthday ever. 

“Yes, you are,” Bruce agreed, and rolled them back into the fantasy by saying something not particularly coherent about thanking the “Agency” they’d supposedly gotten him from. 

Tony was still bonelessly relaxed and floating in a mental haze when his next round came, and turned out to be Steve coming back for seconds. He took Tony’s ass this time; fortunately, he didn’t expect Tony to do much more than lie there and take it. 

But Steve did have super-stamina along with super everything else. He’d probably hurried through his first turn, trying not to keep the others waiting too long. Now he gave Tony a really thorough pounding, bringing himself to the edge of orgasm and easing back away from it again and again. By the end of the proceedings, Tony’s cock was starting to sit up and take notice again, though he still felt no particular inclination to move.

“Color?” Steve asked as he got up and wiped himself off. 

“Green,” Tony said. Phil, that was who was next. You wouldn’t think it to look at him, but Phil was an absolute _freak_ in the sack. Tony hoped he didn’t ask for anything too athletic this time—Tony was as game as ever, but pretty tired.

“Thor wants seconds, too,” Steve added. “Phil’s batting cleanup.”

Thor, then Phil. Okay. If nothing else, Thor would give him a chance to rest up before whatever Phil wanted. “Bring it. Sir,” Tony added belatedly. 

Steve chuckled and left him, with a parting pat on the ass. 

It was a long time before Thor came in—Tony actually dozed off, a little. He woke to Thor climbing onto the bed, saying, “I wish to sample your luscious mouth, little one, but I will not make you get up.” He sat against the headboard, legs spread, Tony’s head in his lap. “The others fear we have nearly exhausted your strength.”

Thor probably meant it—that must have been what the delay was about, talking over whether or not to cut things short, even though Tony had said he was good to go. “I’m fine, sir,” Tony said. 

“You have a fine and generous spirit,” Thor said, getting his cock out. He’d washed, at some point—“never go ass to mouth” was apparently known on Asgard. 

Thor took one of Tony’s hands and wrapped it around the base of his cock, letting Tony just take the rest of it in his mouth—though the rest of it was still pretty substantial. Tony managed to rally enough to put some enthusiasm into it, but he kept things pretty simple, just bobbing his head up and down. 

When Thor came, Tony sucked down every drop, a little disappointed that it was a smaller load than the one he’d gotten in his ass. He mewled and tugged at Thor’s cock a little, leading Thor to chuckle and say, “I wish there was more for you, little one, but there is not.”

“I’m hungry,” Tony said with a pout. He was, actually—he’d been working hard for at least a couple of hours now, and he’d been too excited to have much dinner. 

“You’ll be fed once you’ve pleasured everyone,” Thor told him. “Unless you feel you are too weak from hunger to go on?” His voice hovered somewhere between concerned and teasing.

“I can manage, sir,” Tony said.

“Lovely,” Thor said, swinging his leg over Tony’s head to get up. Before leaving, he bent to kiss Tony’s forehead. “The son of Coul will be next.”

Phil came in, still dressed in the suit he’d been wearing as the Man from the Agency, but with no clipboard. He was apparently playing a different role now; he introduced himself, saying he was the Avengers’ handler. “I selected you for them. I hope you haven’t been a disappointment.”

“I did my best, sir,” Tony said.

Phil quirked a very small smile. “I believe you. The team have all said they’re satisfied. We’ll have to work on your stamina—I can see you’re pretty worn out.”

“Yes, sir,” Tony agreed, fighting a yawn. Phil’s bureaucratic thing had been more of a turn-on before the seven rounds of scorchingly hot sex. 

“They’re a tough group to keep up with, I know. You’re doing all right. I’ll just have to test you out,” Phil added, starting to take off his tie. “I have to see for myself what kind of service my agents are getting. After that, you can have some food and rest. Okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Tony said, resting his head on his folded arms. “Where do you want me?”

“Right where you are is fine.” Phil stripped efficiently down to his boxers and undershirt, and straddled Tony’s upper thighs. Tony heard the cap of a tube of lube pop open, and Phil said, “Shouldn’t take much prep; I know Captain Rogers was just in here.”

Tony grinned into his hand. It sounded like Phil was getting off on the idea of taking Cap’s sloppy seconds. Well, sloppy fourths, really, but he bet it was Cap that was the real turn-on for him. Tony would have to remember to tease him later about what a filthy, filthy fanboy he was. 

Phil lubed him up and gave him a cursory stretching with two fingers, saying, “I won’t take too much of your time; you must be pretty fucked-out. I want you to give me a squeeze each time I thrust in; can you manage that?”

“I’ll try, sir.”

Tired as he was, it took Tony a little while to get the rhythm of it. Phil tutted at him a little, managing to give the impression that as soon as he got back to his clipboard, he’d be making a note of this shoddy performance. But once he did get it down, Phil slipped his hand under Tony’s body, and gave his cock a stroke every time Tony tightened his ass around Phil’s cock. 

_That_ gave Tony a second wind—it had been a while since his cock had had any attention—and he managed to get fully hard again. 

“You can come after I do,” Phil told him. “Let me know if you need help holding back.”

“Yes, sir,” Tony panted. He thought he could go for a while yet, but then Phil changed his angle, so his thrusts hit Tony’s prostate more firmly. “Oh, god,” he yelped. “Gonna come, please.”

Phil stopped stroking, instead squeezing Tony’s cockhead between his thumb and forefinger for the length of four or five thrusts. The need to come eased off. “Better?”

“Yeah.”

He resumed stroking. Tony had to ask for help twice more before Phil finally came. As Phil’s cock softened and the thrusting of his hips died down, his hand speeded up. “That’s it, come for me, boy. All over my hand. Come.”

Tony did. He slumped against the sheets, spent, but Phil wasn’t quite ready to let him. 

“Ah, no, you can rest once you’ve cleaned up after yourself. Turn over.” 

Tony managed to roll over, with some help from Phil. Once he was on his back, Phil was kind enough to present his hand so Tony could lick it clean while still lying down.

“Well,” Phil said, taking out a handkerchief—from somewhere—and applying it to the corner of Tony’s mouth. “I think I can make a satisfactory report on your performance.”

“Thank you, sir,” Tony said. 

“You’ve definitely earned a bit to eat,” Phil went on, getting up from the bed. “And you can sleep here in the bed tonight, since you’ve been so good.” 

Tony heard the door open, and for a second he thought Phil was leaving, just like that. Somebody else had better be coming, he thought muzzily. He wanted cuddles, damn it. 

But Phil came back, carrying a tray, which he placed on the bedside table before getting back on the bed, propped against the headboard, much as Thor had been earlier. “Sit up,” he told Tony. “You can lean against my chest.” His hands guided Tony to do just that. 

Sitting up, Tony could see that the tray held a glass of juice, and a plate with cheese, crackers, and cut-up fruit. Picking up the glass and holding it to Tony’s lips so he could drink, Phil explained, “Maintenance of the team’s equipment is part of my job.”

Okay, _that_ was hot—Tony rescinded his earlier opinion that the bureaucratic shtick was getting a bit tedious. Phil managing to make hand-feeding and generally pampering him fit with the sex-slave game made it worthwhile. 

Tony rested his head against Phil’s shoulder, eating the morsels of food that were pressed to his lips, raising his head to drink when Phil prompted him to. Phil praised him lavishly when he managed to eat and drink all that was given to him. 

Once he was done, Tony would have happily curled up to sleep, but Phil prodded him up, saying, “We can’t put you away dirty, now, can we?”

Tony supposed not. And he would eventually wake up itchy and gross if he went to sleep covered in sweat, lube, and various teammates’ bodily fluids. 

Phil led a sleepy and stumbling Tony into the bathroom, where he put him on his knees in the shower and rinsed him down with cool water, using the handheld showerhead. Once Tony was rinsed off, he directed the spray against Tony’s ass crack until he relaxed and let the others’ come seep out of him. As he chased it down the drain with the spray, he said, “Look at all that. You’re a real trouper.”

Tony felt a surge of gratitude. This wasn’t his first orgy—it wasn’t even his first _birthday_ orgy—but in his globe-trotting playboy days, he wouldn’t have been able to put together something like this, with everyone devoting the whole evening—not to mention weeks of pre-planning—to enacting one of his most cherished and unrealistic fantasies. Not without paying for it, at least. And now here was Phil praising him—and sounding absolutely fucking sincere about it—for his role as the bottom in a six-man, one-woman fuckfest. How was this even his life?

“I am so fucking lucky,” he told Phil.

Phil snorted, shutting off the water. “You’re lucky you’re cute. Up.”

Tony stood, and Phil dried him off briskly with a soft, fuzzy towel. He also insisted on combing Tony’s hair, which Tony thought was stupid—it would just get messed up again when he went to bed—but didn’t argue about. 

Phil escorted him back to bed, and honest-to-god tucked him in, putting him right in the middle and covering him with a light blanket. “Want some company?”

“Um, yes?” Tony _always_ wanted company; Phil knew that. 

“All right.” Phil got his phone out of his suit jacket and did something with it, then joined Tony in the bed, snuggling up against his back. Tony started to drift off almost immediately, and was only half-aware of the door opening. Bruce and Steve took Tony’s other side, Clint curled up in the space behind Phil’s knees—reaching over to give Tony a pat—and Thor…well, Tony never figured out exactly how Thor managed to fit onto the bed; he suspected Asgardian voodoo. 

 

The only ones missing were Natasha (didn’t do group sleeping), Pepper (didn’t do group sex), and Rhodey (didn’t do guys, to Tony’s lasting regret), and he’d have all of his favorite people in the world. 

_Whatever I wanted to do, with whoever I wanted to do it with_ , Natasha had said on a memorable recent birthday. Six out of eight wasn’t bad at all—and Pepper and Rhodey were coming over for cake and presents tomorrow. Pepper would probably have sex with him, at some point when it was just the two of them, and he’d badger Rhodey into giving him a birthday kiss. Tony was willing to round that up, particularly since he wasn’t even dying.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face.


End file.
